


In the Sauna

by orphan_account



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6465721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fanfic of a fanfic... Gimli/Legolas</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Sauna

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TAFKAB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAFKAB/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Nothing Gold Can Stay](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5791561) by [TAFKAB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAFKAB/pseuds/TAFKAB). 



> **Author's Note:** I do not own Middle Earth, Lord of the Rings or any of the characters within. They are Tolkien's, and we are just playing here, which means no money is made.
> 
> I wrote fanfic of fanfic. Yes, indeed. This is in praise of TAFKAB's story: 'Nothing Gold Can Stay' which is a Legolas/Gimli fic and well worth checking out. I do not own TAFKAB's plot.
> 
> Enjoy!

In the Sauna

_“I see,” Legolas said, and he certainly did see-- though he did not understand. “Rewards?”_

_Gimli coughed. “Aye, well.”_

“Did someone pay you?” Legolas asked, biting his lip. Gimli's eyes widened.

“No. Well, except for the bet of course, me being the winner and all.”

“Oh! So...” Legolas frowned, and he still had not taken his eyes from Gimli's semi-erect shaft. “Well, then I fear I do not understand this reward you speak of.”

“You're looking at it,” Gimli said, and he drew his hand up slowly, dragging his palm and fingers over the skin, over the piercings, and it was longer now.

“Can I...” Legolas reached one hand out tentatively. “Can I touch?”

Gimli's eyes suddenly hooded, and he tensed. “I think I'd really rather you didn't,” he said quickly, covering himself with his hand, and Legolas dropped his, feeling sad.

“I'm sorry,” he said, staring down at the floor, realising that he'd reminded Gimli of the wraith's vision. “I didn't mean to hurt you.”

Something about his apology must have affected Gimli, because he felt a hand under his chin, lifting his head, and he stared into Gimli's eyes now, haunted and guilty. He remembered it too now. All those horrible things.

“Legolas,” Gimli said, and he looked conflicted. He seemed to need to draw quite a few breaths before he spoke again. “I'll let you settle your curiosity, but only as long as I can touch you in the same way.”

Suddenly, Legolas felt even hotter, if that were possible, and it felt as if his face was burning. “Y-Yes,” he said faintly, feeling dizzy just because Gimli was looking at him. “But it won't do that...” Legolas could not think of the words. “I mean I never...”

He stopped speaking. Somehow, he was sure he had hurt Gimli again. He let his eyelashes fall in regret, not knowing how to have this conversation, uncertain what to say to make any of this right.

“Be that as it may, elf. I'm still going to touch you,” said Gimli, his voice tight. Legolas felt his heart flutter like butterfly wings.

“You are?” Legolas almost jumped when Gimli hopped down from his own bench to sit beside him. He felt as if he couldn't catch his breath, as if the steam was curling and writhing in his lungs, and his hand trembled as Gimli reached between them to take it.

“Have your feel, but be aware it will be reciprocated.” Legolas nodded quickly, but then looked down as Gimli let his hand go. Wanting to see as well as touch, Legolas slid gracefully from the bench to his knees.

For a second, he just peered at the piercings, but then his curiosity got the better of him, and he extended his index finger to touch the stretched skin caught between the pieces of metal. Starting at the base of Gimli's shaft, he let his finger feel for the metal underneath the skin, noting the same depth to them all as he dragged his finger up.

Gimli was fully erect now, and the skin Legolas touched was so hot, like fire made flesh. His own warm breath returned to him heated and intimate. As if in sympathy, Legolas felt his own body grow hot and strangely heavy there, in that same place. As his finger got to the top of Gimli's shaft and moved over the ridge at the head, it leapt forward, almost tapping Legolas on the nose. Legolas laughed, feeling the strange tension break a little.

“Gimli!” he said, sure the dwarf had done it on purpose. Legolas didn't know it could do that. From above him, he heard a low, drawn out growl from Gimli, and Legolas looked up.

What he saw made him look down again, quickly. This wasn't the same, he told himself – Gimli was allowing him to do this. Thinking that, Legolas curled his hand around Gimli's hardness, afraid to hold him too tightly, but sure enough that he could feel how hard Gimli was under that hot velvety skin. That skin slid over the hardness beneath as Legolas moved his hand up. When he got to the top, he felt Gimli's length strain towards him, and he dipped his head forward to press a chaste kiss there.

“Enough, elf!” Gimli gasped, and Legolas let him go immediately. Sorry, but at the same time, not sorry. With a silent sigh of longing he didn't understand, Legolas rose to his feet and sat back on the bench beside his companion. Did Gimli hate him now? He did not dare to look, but felt his head and shoulders slump in a strange kind of defeat.

“We had a deal, and I'll take it back now, Legolas,” Gimli said, and he nodded, even though it sounded as though he spoke to convince himself. “I don't think I said I'd go on my knees to you.” Gimli tapped the bench, making Legolas jump. “Feet!”

Obedient, and wanting to show his thanks for the liberty he had taken, Legolas turned sideways and bent his legs to place his feet on the bench next to Gimli. When Gimli hooked hands under his knees and yanked his entire body forward, Legolas made a sound of alarm. His stomach felt like it would fall out of him, and he ended with one leg behind Gimli, while the other was stretched out over his lap.

Legolas raised himself up to lean back on his hands, aware that he still felt heavy and hot down below. In fact, he felt a kind of desperate needful aching, and he was sure that hadn't been in the vision. Gimli was looking at him, but not at his face, and Legolas followed the line of his sight, and caught his breath.

His own member was resting against his thigh, and it felt heavy because it was, thicker and longer. Legolas had never before seen himself like this, and he simply did not know how to react. Now that he saw it, a large part of his consciousness seemed to flee from his head and reside down there. Just the knowledge that Gimli was looking at him caused him to swell, as if in a kind of pride at being seen.

“You won't? So I see,” Gimli said, and there was a bit of triumph in his voice. Legolas' eyes flicked to look at him, and he was smiling. It made Legolas feel good, but it didn't ease the deep longing in him, and he sighed as he watched Gimli reach towards him with a forefinger.

“My body has never responded like this,” Legolas confessed. “Not for anyone.” Gimli's finger stopped before it could touch, and Legolas trembled so deeply he feared his bones might rattle.

“Not for anyone,” Gimli repeated eventually, sounding strange. “Never?”

“Please touch me, Gimli,” Legolas said, feeling his legs shake, knowing Gimli noted it too. “It begins to feel like a strange kind of hurt.”

“Aye,” Gimli said in astonishment. “I can imagine how it would.” So saying, he touched the base of Legolas' hardness with his forefinger. It had filled out so much it was now pointing upwards, and the touch of Gimli's finger made Legolas' arms give up supporting him, and he sank backwards onto the bench, looking up at the ceiling as he felt that finger mark a slow journey up the underside of his shaft.

It didn't do anything to ease the ache, that terrible, thundering vital need to be somewhere. Indeed, it seemed to make that worse, and yet it was also so pleasurable that Legolas felt he might cry. His breath sounded heavy. As Gimli reached the top, he felt something inside him twitch in a demand for more, and he moaned.

He remembered now this was how Gimli must have felt when Legolas touched him. And he, Legolas, had laughed. “I am so sorry, Gimli. I did not know. I did not mean to tease you!” he said, suddenly so regretful. Gimli hushed him.

Then he bent his head down, and Legolas could feel his breath, so hot, so gentle, and he writhed without meaning to as Gimli wrapped fingers and palm around him, a firm grip, giving his body exactly what it wanted, and Legolas felt as though his entire being surged gladly into Gimli's hand in an unstoppable yes. Gimli kept that grip, but dragged his hand up, and Legolas heard himself cry out an affirmative, his hips lifting in gladness.

Legolas hoped it would continue on and on, only at the end of the movement, Gimli stopped, and Legolas wondered if he might faint when he felt Gimli's lips on him. His beard brushed over that most delicate place, causing a shiver of delight.

“This is as far as our bargain takes us,” Gimli said, and it took Legolas some seconds to understand the words. He shook his head desperately. “Shall I continue, Legolas?”

“Yes! Please! Gimli!” Those three words might be the only three Legolas still knew. But all that mattered is that Gimli brought his hand back down, and that was even better. Legolas felt like he might be losing himself. Everything fled from his mind, and all he was existed within Gimli's touch. So knowing, so careful, so good.

It didn't take many of those sublime up and down movements for Gimli to undo him, right there on the bench, and at the last Legolas felt something in him give way and lash out, relentless and elemental. He cried out, and when he came back to himself, he was laid out over Gimli's lap, shaking and sweating, wonderfully hot, and so replete he wondered if he would ever want for anything ever again.

Gimli's hand rested on his hip now, heavy and reassuring.

“ _Le melin_ , Gimli,” Legolas murmured, then froze, afraid at his own unthinking confession, brought forth by Gimli's touch. His answer seemed to take a while.

“Speak the common tongue, elf,” Gimli replied, amused, then paused again. “I assume you give me your thanks?”

Legolas swallowed. “I give you myself,” he whispered, unable to help it, and then waited in misery for Gimli to laugh at him.

“ _Le melin_ ,” Gimli said seriously. “Young Strider has much to answer for my understanding. Mahal help me, I feel it too.”

Shocked, Legolas surged into a sitting position, his legs still draped elegantly around Gimli. “You do?” he asked, hardly daring to believe it. Gimli leaned forward and kissed him quickly in confirmation, something of happiness in him that Legolas had never seen before. It made him shine.

“We should get out of here before we faint, and go somewhere we can get to know each other,” Gimli said, and paused. “ _Melethron nín_.”

Legolas threw his arms around Gimli in joy, and they paused for Legolas to clean himself with the towel before picking up their clothes and rinsing off in the bath outside before retiring to their rooms for the rest of the day, and night, and for as long as it took for others to wonder at their absence.

 

 **Author's Note:** I have deleted all of my work from Ao3 in protest at their non-existent abuse policy, which means that victims of trolls are held equally responsible for the attacks they receive. Yes, you read that right. This work remains in situ since it was written as a gift for TAFKAB. For more of the author's work, please see: http://members.adult-fanfiction.org/profile.php?no=1296767214&view=story

Thank you.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Author's Note:** Just a bit of fun. Read TAFKAB's story about these two. It's great! 
> 
> _Le melin_ – I love you  
>  _Melethron nín_ – my lover


End file.
